Millionaire Under The Mistletoe

Eleven

Callum woke to a sense of supreme satisfaction.

Miranda lay curled up beside him under the covers, one hand resting on his bare chest, spreading warmth through him. It felt so right. Her hand belonged there, against his skin. Over his heart. He wanted to wake every morning to her touch, to the softness of her body tucked against his, her golden hair tousled around her face.

She was his.

The strength of emotion that surged through him awed him. Reaching out, he brushed a silky curl away from her cheek. She stirred.

Her eyes opened, and in the pale morning light that spilled through his bedroom window Callum saw something warm and wonderful in their golden-brown depths. Then alarm took over, chasing the glow out and filling her eyes with shadows.

She was about to withdraw from him. He couldn’t-wouldn’t-allow that to happen. Not after last night.

“Don’t move,” he demanded.

She blinked up at him. “Why?”

“Because I want to look at you.”

Miranda gave a breathy laugh and shifted away, leaving a cold space in the bed beside him.

“You’re making me feel uncomfortable.”

“Don’t feel uncomfortable.” He rolled closer and cupped his hand under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You better get used to it. I’ll never tire of looking at you.”

Something flickered in the caramel eyes that melted his heart. “Oh, yes, you will.”

He shook his head. “No, I won’t.” Not ever. But he wasn’t ready to confess that yet. Instead he let his fingertips caress the soft skin of her cheek. “What we had last night…I want more.”

Yet he couldn’t put the unfamiliar emotions and desires that churned inside him into words. All he knew was that he wanted to savor this…thing…that bound them together. Driven by an impulse, he leaned forward and pressed his lips fiercely against hers, determined to make her acknowledge the power of his need.

Last night’s wild heat returned in a rush. Swirling through him, racing through his bloodstream, quickening the passion that had ignited at the first touch of his lips to hers. Her lips parted, his tongue plundered the warm depths of her mouth.

And words became unnecessary.

It was the sound of the dogs barking, a shout from Hunter and the lilt of feminine laughter outside that brought Callum abruptly back to his senses. He stared down at the woman who had made him forget everything. His family. His work. He caught sight of the clock on the bed stand. Even the time.

He gave a husky laugh. “My God, I was ready to take you again.”

She was breathing quickly, and her eyes had gone dark with desire. The covers had shifted, revealing a pale, creamy shoulder and the slope of one breast. Want surged through him, and he hauled in a ragged breath.

“We better get up.” With heavy reluctance he sat up and shrugged the bedclothes off. “Breakfast will be ready-and I don’t want anyone coming searching for us.” He wanted to keep the intimate joy he’d found with Miranda a secret from the world.

“No, we don’t want that.”

Miranda moved away, and this time he let her. Her cheeks were stained a rosy pink from the kiss they’d shared, and she took care to keep her nakedness covered. “Your mother told me she was old-fashioned, and didn’t approve of us sharing rooms. I feel like I’ve abused her trust.”

There was a strange expression in her eyes.

Callum resisted the impulse to pull her back into his arms, tumble her against the rumpled sheets and possess her with the desire that burned so hotly within him. Instead he said, “I wouldn’t worry too much about that. My mother will be only too pleased that I’ve found someone.”

Uncertainty glimmered in her eyes. “I don’t want to deceive your mother-your family-any further.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

Her shoulders stiffened, and her eyes grew wary. “So what are you asking?”

Callum hesitated. Hell, what was he asking? For a moment fear closed around him. He shook it away. This was no time to get cold feet. But he tempered what he meant to say. “I want to make this fake relationship real.”

He thought he glimpsed joy in the gold-brown eyes. Too quickly it was gone. For a moment he thought she was going to object. Then she smiled. “I’d like that, too.”

An overwhelming relief settled over him. Miranda hadn’t refused outright as he’d half expected. She had said yes.

And he had no intention of letting her escape.

Miranda floated downstairs after a quick stop at her room to pull on something more suitable than the red halter-neck dress she’d been wearing last night. She was unable to suppress the silly smile that curved her lips, all too conscious of the man padding down the stairs beside her, his fingers loosely linked with hers.

No doubt she was heading for heartbreak, falling for Callum. It was stupid. Totally insane. Yet she couldn’t help herself.

And she would allow herself no regrets.

This was her last chance to seize a slice of happiness for herself. It wouldn’t last. But she would enjoy it while it did. Because it would be over too soon-she knew that. As surely as she knew that Callum Ironstone would not fall in love with someone like her. He would find someone with the class and the social connections he needed. Not an embezzler’s daughter living under the fog of her father’s notoriety.

They entered the dining room, and her gaze settled on Petra. Someone like Petra Harris.

The blonde glanced across at them.

Miranda read the bruised hurt in Petra’s pale eyes as she took in their interlinked fingers. For Petra it had never been about business interests. The woman really had loved Callum, she realized. Then her gaze shifted to the man seated beside Petra at the breakfast table. She took in Gordon Harris’s tight lips. For Petra’s father it had been about business. And he looked none too pleased.

Hunter greeted them first. “We started without you. Mother decided you two must’ve gone for a walk again and lost track of time.”

Miranda felt herself grow red. Thankfully Pauline wasn’t in the dining room, and she didn’t have to answer any polite questions about how their walk had gone. She didn’t dare look at Callum as he held a chair out for her before sliding into the empty seat at her side.

“I promised to take Lindsey down to the craft fair in the village.” Jack rose to his feet.

“Can we go, too?” Anna turned to Hunter. “Please?”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “What have you got me into?” he demanded of his brother as he pushed his chair back.

Within minutes the dining room had emptied. Only the Harrises-and Fraser-remained.

“Gordon wants to schedule some time with you this morning, Callum,” Fraser told his brother as he, too, got to his feet.

“We can talk after breakfast,” replied Callum, lifting a pot of aromatic coffee. After Petra had refused the offer of a cup, he said, “Coffee, Miranda? Or would you prefer tea?”

Or me?

Miranda could’ve sworn the invitation was in his wickedly glinting eyes. “Coffee,” she said huskily, all too conscious of the effect he had on her as he filled first her cup then his.

Gordon’s mouth was suddenly grim. “After breakfast will do. I was starting to think you might be otherwise occupied.” He glanced meaningfully at Miranda.

Callum stilled, then carefully set the coffeepot down.

Petra put a hand on her father’s arm. “Daddy-”

“No, Petra.” Gordon shook his daughter’s hand off. He turned in his seat. “Callum, I had hoped the relationship between our families would be more than business. I had hoped…” He paused.

“Daddy, please.”

Petra looked mortified. A shaft of pity for the other woman pierced Miranda. Wasn’t it enough that she was hurting already? Did her father have to humiliate her, too?

She shot Callum a pleading look. Couldn’t he do anything to stop this? His arm came across the back of her chair, and his hand rested possessively on her shoulders. “Gordon, I think-”

“Petra would make you a very suitable wife. Much better than she ever would.”

The anger in his gaze stupefied Miranda.

“I can’t believe that you broke it off with Petra for her. Think whose daughter she is. The fruit doesn’t fall far from the vine. Will you ever be able to trust her?”

“Daddy!”

Callum’s body had coiled tight, and Miranda could feel the tension radiating from him. Suddenly she felt decidedly ill.

“Yes, I can trust her,” Callum bit out.

Oh, heavens. Miranda grew cold. Trust her?

Callum’s free fist hit the edge of the table with a loud bang. Both Miranda and Petra jumped. Callum glared at Gordon. “Frankly, I wasn’t intending to spend the morning closeted in meetings. And, yes, I had intended to spend the day with Miranda, who is one of the nicest women I’ve ever had the fortune of dating.”

Miranda sighed. Poor Petra.

“So you can be the first to congratulate us, Gordon.”

“First to congratulate you?”

Gordon’s shocked expression echoed Miranda’s own shock.

Callum’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “We’re getting married.”

“Married?” A gasp of delight came from the door.

Miranda closed her eyes as Pauline hurled herself across the room.

“Oh, Callum, I heard a thump and thought something must have broken. But this is wonderful. Just wait until I tell your father.”

Oh, help. What in heaven’s name had Callum done?

As Callum closed the door of the study behind them ten minutes later, Miranda wrenched herself out of his hold. “What possessed you to say such a dumb thing to Gordon in there? I feel like such a fool.”

“Hey, it’s not that bad,” he said, the protective streak that he hadn’t known existed still strong as he crossed the room to stand beside her. “I-”

“I told you that I didn’t want to lie any further to your family.” She covered her face with her hands and her curls bobbed. “Now your parents think we’re getting married. At least your brothers haven’t heard. You can tell them it’s a stupid misunderstanding.”

“Why?” Callum could see his bald question had thrown her.

She dropped her hands and stared at him. “Your parents like me. Once they hear that you only said it to protect me from Gordon’s nastiness, they’ll understand.” Then her mouth formed an O. “Of course, you can’t do that, can you? Gordon is an important shareholder. That’s the whole reason your brought me along this weekend-to stop exactly the kind of scenario that just occurred in the dining room from taking place.”

Callum crossed the distance between them in two long strides. Catching her by her shoulders, he growled down at her. “Listen to me. I wouldn’t allow anyone to talk to you like that-and I don’t care that he’s a shareholder.”

She tipped her head back. “That’s very noble, but-”

“It’s not noble. I-”

He stilled. He’d almost said, I want to marry you.

Callum froze. He couldn’t propose marriage just to stop Miranda feeling humiliated by Gordon’s attack-even though he’d been tempted to punch the man in the jaw instead of banging the table.

Yet in the past he’d asked her to marry him to be his hostess…

That reason was no better. Damn it, he wanted her to marry him for himself.

The bombshell thought shocked him rigid.

Why?

Because she was special. Like no other woman he’d ever met.

“Of course it was noble.” She was looking at him like he’d done something heroic.

He shook his head to clear it. “I was angry. He was insulting you.”

“No one has ever defended me like that before.”

He didn’t suppose they had. Miranda had always protected her mother and brother. There’d been no one to protect her. His chest expanded with emotion. “That’s about to change.”

She laughed, and the bittersweet sound caught at his gut.

“Callum, he didn’t say anything that both you and I know isn’t true. Petra would make you a fabulous wife. And given the fact that my father stole from you, then committed suicide, it’s true that will make me a scandalous girlfriend.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.” Her eyes had gone dark. “And how can you trust me?”

“Miranda-”

A knock sounded on the door.

Callum marched over and yanked it open. “What?” he demanded of Fraser.

“Have you seen Petra?”

“No,” he snapped, and started to close the door in Fraser’s face.

His brother stuck a foot in the crack. “You let me believe she broke it off with you.”

“Not now.” He glared at this brother. “Leave us in peace.”

Fraser removed his foot, and this time Callum closed the door with a determined thud.

Miranda had moved to the window. She stood looking at the view over Lake Windermere down at the bottom of the property, the sag of her shoulders revealing how troubled she was.

Tenderness filled him. “Stop fretting.”

She turned to meet his gaze over her shoulder. “Trust me, I have reason to fret. Every single thing that Gordon said was true.” She shook her head as she started to object. “I like your parents so much. I was looking forward to coming back with you, riding the horses.” She gestured at the paddocks visible to one side of the house.

At the yearning in her voice, cold fingers of dread danced over his skin.

Did he want this? A woman who loved his horses, his home, his family…but not him? Out in the corner of the paddock he could see Red pawing through the snow. In a flash of insight he saw what marrying him would mean-it would give Miranda back everything she’d lost and finally assuage his guilt.

And he’d get the woman he wanted more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.

Callum sucked in a breath. He crossed the room, and slid his arms around her shoulders from behind and drew her to his chest.

Beneath his palms the woolen cardigan she wore was soft, and he could feel the rise and fall of her rib cage as she breathed. His fingers crept forward. Below the cardigan, the edge of her wraparound dress had parted and his fingertips brushed her bare skin. Need swamped him. God. Just by breathing she made him desire her. He resisted the fierce urge to yank her up against his hardening body. Now was not the time.

The thought he’d had when he’d woken with her in his arms this morning returned.

This woman belonged with him.

He stared blindly over her shoulder at a red-breasted robin chirping in the undergrowth beneath the window.

If she married him, he would have her in his bed each night instead of seeing her only through functions she catered for him-or through communications about her brother. Surely this was a win-win situation?

So why wasn’t he asking, begging, her to marry him?

Because this wasn’t what he wanted.

He wanted Miranda to love him.

And there was no chance of that ever happening.

With a hop, the robin he’d been staring at vanished into the undergrowth, bringing Callum back to life. His hands dropped from her shoulders. He felt the loss of the softness of her skin acutely.

He loved her.

God.

Despite the success of his parents’ marriage he’d always known that love wasn’t easy or straightforward, and that it would make an emotional mess of him-and he’d been right. Good thing she didn’t know how he felt.

But he had to ask again. Give her the opportunity to accept what he could give her. Because then he’d get what he wanted more than life. Her.

Callum drew a shuddering breath. “Miranda, you really could marry me-and make my dumb suggestion a reality.” He directed the words at golden curls that cascaded down the back of her head, relieved he didn’t have to meet her eyes. This way she would never know how desperately he craved to hear her say yes. “We would go downstairs and celebrate our engagement. What do you say?”

Miranda spun around.

Callum was asking her to marry him? There was an expression in his eyes that caused her heart to ache.

A flutter of hope made her stretch out her hand to touch his chest-to check he was real, that this wasn’t a dream.

The tension of the moment was shattered by the jazzy “Jingle Bells” ringtone of her phone in her cardigan pocket. Definitely no dream. Life had intruded.

Miranda hesitated. It might be Adrian, calling her back after terminating their call yesterday, but she didn’t want to speak to him. Not now, not while Callum was asking her to marry him. Not when she knew Gordon was right. She had been less than trustworthy. Her stomach clenched.

“Answer it.”

Reluctantly she hauled it out of her pocket, but by that time the ringing had stopped. She stared at the screen and her heart sank. “It was Adrian.”

“Do you want to call him back?”

She shook her head. “I called him yesterday-he’s probably just returning my call.” No point telling Callum her brother had hung up on her because she’d wanted permission to tell Callum the truth.

As she was about to pocket the phone, it started to ring again, loud and intrusive. Faced with no choice under Callum’s expectant gaze, she answered it.

Impatient now, Callum thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers and turned away to stare back out the window, trying not to listen to Miranda’s conversation with her brother. He searched for the robin but couldn’t find it.

Miranda was going to accept his proposal. He’d seen it in her eyes.

The corners of his mouth turned up as he anticipated Fraser’s surprise. Callum would be the first of the Ironstones to marry. For once he would’ve beaten his brothers at something life-changing. There was some small masculine satisfaction in that.

Behind him Miranda’s voice lowered, catching his attention.

“I can’t talk about that, Adrian. Not now.”

What was going on? What did she need to speak to her brother about that she couldn’t say in front of him?

Frowning slightly, he swiveled to face her.

She gave him a fleeting, sideways glance from beneath those long, dark lashes and turned away. “Thank you for that. I appreciate it more than I can tell you.” A silence. Then, “Yes, I know it’s hard for you, but it has to be done. I must go. I’ll call you later.”

Was Adrian in some kind of trouble? Callum told himself the suspicion was unfounded.

Except…there was that air of discomfort.

When she clicked the phone shut he asked, driven by a compulsion he couldn’t name, “What’s wrong?”

Her lashes fluttered down. She drew a deep breath, looked up and said in a rush, “Adrian’s being blackmailed.”